The Young Musician ; Or, Fighting His Way eBook

“I guess you’re mistaken,” said
Nick coolly. “Squire Pope was over to our
shop this mornin’, and he told dad that the seleckmen
were goin’ to send you there after the auction.”

Philip’s eyes flashed angrily. He felt
insulted and outraged. Never for a moment had
he conceived the idea that any one would regard him
as a candidate for the poorhouse.

He had an honorable pride in maintaining himself,
and would rather get along on one meal a day, earned
by himself in honest independence, than be indebted
to public charity even for a luxurious support.

“Squire Pope doesn’t know what he’s
talking about,” retorted Philip, who had to
exercise some self-restraint not to express himself
more forcibly “and you can tell him so when
you see him. I am no more likely to go to the
poorhouse than you are!”

“Come, that’s a good one,” chuckled
Nick. “Talk of me goin’ to the poorhouse,
when my father pays one of the biggest taxes in town!
Of course, it’s different with you.”

“You’ll have to excuse me now,”
said Philip, determined to get rid of his disagreeable
companion. “I have something to do.”

“Then you won’t sell me the fiddle, Phil?”

“No, I won’t,” answered our hero,
with scant ceremony.

“Then I’ll have to bid it off at the auction.
Maybe I’ll get it cheaper.”

And Mr. Nicholas Holden at length relieved Philip
of his company.

CHAPTER IV.

Theauction.

It so happened that Nick Holden met Squire Pope on
the village street, and, being rather disappointed
at the result of his negotiations with Philip, thought
it might be a good idea to broach the subject to the
squire, who, as he knew, had taken it upon himself
to superintend the sale of Mr. Gray’s goods.

“I say, squire, I’ve just been over to
see Phil Gray.”

“Ahem! Well, how does he seem to feel?”

“Kinder stuck up, I reckon. He said he
wouldn’t go to the poorhouse, and I might tell
you so.”

“I apprehend,” said the squire, in his
stately way, “he will be under the necessity
of going, whether he likes it or not.”

“Just so; that’s what I told him!”
interjected Nick.

“And he should be grateful for so comfortable
a home,” continued the public man.

“Well, I dunno,” said Nick. “They
do say that old Tucker most starves the paupers.
Why his bills with dad are awful small.”

“The town cannot afford to pamper the appetites
of its beneficiaries,” said the squire.
“Where is Philip now?”

“I guess he’s at home. I offered
to buy his fiddle, but he said he was going to keep
it. I offered him a dollar and sixty-four cents—­the
same as dad’s bill against his father, but he
wouldn’t take it.”

“Really, Nicholas, your offer was very irregular—­extremely
irregular. It should have been made to me, as
the administrator of the late Mr. Gray, and not to
a boy like Philip.”